


Legacy

by MinSeulgi



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dragons, Gen, Knights - Freeform, Multi, Prompt Fic, Shapeshifting, Tags to be updated as story progresses, Violence, War, Wizards, how the hell do i even tag this thing?, pretty much an open the door mv au, some reference taken from heralds of valdemar and tortall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:52:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5130050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinSeulgi/pseuds/MinSeulgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>leg·a·cy. 'legəsē/. (n): a thing handed down by a predecessor. <i>The court of the four kingdoms is centuries old, and the legacy of the current court is only just being made.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a roleplay. Decided to expand cause I missed my muse and his world. So here it is. Credit to the idea of the kingdoms (their names and general information) and for the distribution of the zodiac among the members belongs to Ryker and wherever she found her information from.
> 
> Rating, warnings, characters, and tags shall be updated according as the drabbles progress. Rest assured, all of TD will appear. Other groups might appear, but TD is the main focus.

There are some events in life that a person should never be late to. Their births, for one. Their deaths, another. And in between are more still, fleeting instants that an individual must meet head one and be ready for. For many in the kingdoms, the coming of age ceremony that the smaller villages partake in is one such event -- arguably, _the_ event, the one no individual should miss or be late for.

But just as important, if only for a select few, is a meeting with the court of the four kingdoms.

It is that very meeting that Sanggyun is late for. And to add further weight to his troubles is that this is his very first meeting not just with the court as an individual knight, but as the knight of Gemini.

The position of the Gemini Knight is highly esteemed within the kingdom of Caissa, not just for its rank among the kingdom’s order of knights, but for the fact that it is the Gemini Knight that lends their voice to speak for the kingdom and its many inhabitants. It is the Gemini Knight that the citizens can look to in times of crisis, that is one of the first to step up when strife has come to the fair kingdom. The Gemini Knight is a title of honor, and not even forty-eight hours into his position, and Sanggyun is already attempting to tarnish his reputation.

Sanggyun rounds a corner, praying desperately that the left turn he’d taken two halls back really was a left and not a right, and he runs into what feels like a wall. He goes down hard, the fall stunning him into silence and immobility for only a brief moment before reflexes kick in.

“Sorry!” Sanggyun chokes as he scrambles to his feet. 

A testament to his training and own values is that as soon as he is upright, Sanggyun moves to check on the person he’d crashed into. They seem to be in better condition than he, as if he’d been the only one thrown back by their collision. In fact, low laughter reaches Sanggyun’s ears as a hand waves him off, and however reluctant he may be, Sanggyun obeys, taking a step back as his head bows. Just before he does, he catches sight of dark eyes and dark hair, of angled features that look as sharp as any blade. There’s a regalness there that robs Sanggyun of his ability to speak. “I’m fine. You’re in a hurry, too, I see. Go on, young one. Try to be more careful next time, hm?”

A hand on his shoulder pushes Sanggyun forward, and without looking back, he takes the initiative and continues on his way. But where Sanggyun had been running before, he walks now, his mood quieter and his desire to minimize his tardiness smothered by his chance encounter. 

By a stroke of luck, the turn had been a left and not a right, and soon Sanggyun comes to a halt just outside of the heavy door that leads into the room where the court meetings are held. It dwarfs him in size, making Sanggyun feel so much more like the child he pretends he isn’t. At eighteen, Sanggyun is well aware that he’s the youngest knight representative on the court, and second-youngest on the court itself, and that knowledge daunts him, especially now as he faces down destiny. 

And so, with the deep breath he recalls his mentor advising he take, Sanggyun pushes open the door and strides inside--

\--right into _chaos_.

Bubbles of every size and color float like lazy butterflies through the air just above head-level, although one just narrowly misses clipping Sanggyun’s nose. The bubbles neither expand, nor deflate, nor pop with their continued existence and near-devastating misses, and even before Sanggyun drops his gaze to find the lazy hand gestures of a youth with a shock of white hair, he knows it to be magic. The conversation level of the room pushes at a dull roar, the sounds pounding at Sanggyun’s temples as he steps over to the table in search of two familiar faces.

He finds them together, seated in front of him and just off to the right. Hyosang and Yoonchul -- the Sagittarius and Aries knights, respectively -- are the other representatives of Caissa, and happen to be two of Sanggyun’s closest friends. They’re talking amongst themselves, their focus divided between the conversation and the surrounding madness, but when Sanggyun slides into the empty seat on Hyosang’s other side, a seat he knows to be left for him, Hyosang pulls away and Yoonchul turns to watch the wizard as he creates more bubbles out of the air in front of him. Sanggyun just manages to catch the look Hyosang shoots him. It wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but Sanggyun knows Hyosang well, and he’s always been easy for Sanggyun to read.

“Lost?” Hyosang asks, the far corner of his lips lifting in a brief smile. It eases all in the same heartbeat as Hyosang’s expression slips back into neutrality, but Sanggyun knows he’s seen it. Rare as they are, he takes it upon himself to witness all of Hyosang’s smiles.

“No!” Sanggyun hisses in denial, hiding the tell of his burning cheeks by stealing a glance around the large, round table the rest of the court is seated at. Upon closer inspection, Sanggyun can see that only one seat is unoccupied. It’s larger than the others, the back a little more ornate than the one Sanggyun had slid into, and without needing to ask, he knows the seat to belong to the court’s current leader -- the Scorpio Dragon.

Hyosang’s lips are pressed thin when Sanggyun turns back to ask, but his eyes dance with mirth, and it’s easy to see that he knows what’s coming. “The Scorpio Dragon is running late today.” Hyosang’s voice is light, as if he’s discussing the weather, but the way his eyes shine and dance, it’s clear to see the enjoyment he takes out of the situation. Sanggyun is all at once amused and envious. 

Despite all the time he has spent in Hyosang’s company, the elder knight has never been like this, so animated despite being contained. Whoever the Scorpio Dragon is, he has earned Hyosang’s respect, and is likely a good friend on top of that. Sanggyun can’t wait to meet him.

Before Sanggyun can comment, A door on the opposite side of the hall opens, and a figure strides in. Without missing a beat, Hyosang stands. On Hyosang’s other side, Yoonchul stands. All around the table, the conversations cease as bodies rise -- the lion representatives of Apollo and the wizards Gwydion, and the second representative dragon of Gyo. Before Hyosang can nudge him in the side, Sanggyun scrambles to his feet, his attention zeroing in on the throne as their leader takes his place.

For the second time that day, Sanggyun feels the icy trickle of apprehension as it trails down along his spine, inducing a whole-body shudder that has Hyosang casting him a look that Sanggyun catches from the furthermost corner of his vision. His focus remains on the court’s leader, entirely too obvious as he takes in features too familiar for comfort. 

With a broad set of shoulders, features almost feline in nature, and the sort of regal air that smothers a person into silence, Sanggyun finds that he recognizes their leader. And with the way the Scorpio Dragon studies him in return, amusement in the lines of his mouth and the incline of his head, Sanggyun knows that he’s been recognized, too. 

As soon as the Scorpio Dragon looks away, Sanggyun’s head bows, and he allows himself a pitiful moan that only Hyosang is given the dubious benefit of hearing. 

Of all the days to be late, and of all the people to run into, Sanggyun just has to run head-first into their court’s leader on the first official day in his position as the Gemini Knight.


	2. Dim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dim. /dim/. (adj): not clearly recalled or formulated in the mind.  
> (v): make or become less bright or distinct.

After the manifestation of his real powers, magic work has always come easily to Hansol. It's a push and a pull, a give and take, and then a gentle twist of power as one imagines or asks for exactly what they want. Hansol has never had any trouble asking for -- or demanding -- something. So he doesn't understand why, now of all times, his magic refuses to work for him. 

It should be easy. Hansol may not look as much like his father as his brothers do, lacking not only his father's physical build and bulk, but also his more set features, but they're still of the same blood, and magic can do nearly anything the user commands. All it takes is a wave of his hand to add or take from a person's weight, a flick of his wrist to broaden shoulders and give the illusion of bulked muscle. Logically, Hansol should have the most problem with the coloring of his hair and eyes. It takes careful precision to alter the color of a person's eyes; one wrong move and the change can be permanent, or blindness can settle in instead. And hair, it's just so easy to slip, to lose one strand, and then two strands, more strands, until the roots have bled back to their original color, until there's odd patches of color where there shouldn't be. 

But Hansol has no problems there. The magic holds for him, his blue eyes a dark brown, blond hair a shade just darker than his eyes. He looks like his brothers now, just one of many, but it's not his brothers Hansol wants to imitate, it's his father. His father, the same fool that cursed Hansol for his waifish body and his inability to pack on the same muscles his brothers did. Kim Hanbin, the only reason Hansol's magic is as strong as it is, and the only reason he's in the Cancer position to begin with.

So Hansol tries again, reaching out to find the tendrils of trembling magic, and pulling them tight like a child unwilling to release a favored toy.

The magic strains to escape him, writhing in Hansol's fingers like a living thing and fighting every push and pull with a petulance that is disconcerting. It frustrates Hansol to the point of tears.

"Why won't you work!" Hansol's voice rings in the following silence of his room, fingers curled tight enough into his palm that the knuckles have bled white from exertion. He's panting hard, nearly gasping for breath as his chest heaves and his heart hangers against his ribs. The tears that threaten to leak from Hansol's eyes brim and catch, but don't fall. Not yet. 

"Why won't you work?" 

There's something in Hansol's voice that sounds like defeat, something like bitter misery and exhaustion, and it isn't until his grip goes lax that the magic stops struggling against his will. 

Hansol doesn't feel any different, but when he looks up at the mirror next, ready to banish the magic from his hair and eyes, it's not his reflection he sees staying back at him, but his father's. His father, bur with Hansol's elfish features, the pronounced angle of his eyes, the cut of his jaw, the perpetual pout to his lips. His father's reflection, but Hansol's features, and oh, how he marvels. 

And then, right before his eyes, the image begins to bleed away, a little at a time and the changes so minute that Hansol doesn't notice until he's staring at himself again, at blond hair and blue eyes, and a slender frame much like his mother's. 

It is only then, with the release of the magic that had changed him, with the fingers of one hand brushing over the cool glad of his reflection as if to bring back the previous image, that the tears spill over the edge and streak Hansol's cheeks.


	3. Futile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fu·tile. ˈfyo͞odl,ˈfyo͞odīl/. (adj) incapable of producing any useful result; pointless.

Hyunho’s voice is a soft drone in Hyosang’s ears, familiar and soothing, and enough to lull the knight into a state of comfort as the Court meeting goes on. Vaguely, Hyosang takes note of the conversation, of the note that Apollo is doing well, and that there had been an influx of births recently. The fact that the council considers it to be an omen of good times would resonate deeply any other time, and in the worst way possible, but for the moment, Hyosang is too at ease, and his attention is more than a little divided.

Across the table, focus dived despite the way his eyes remain on the Apollo speaker, Sehyuk is the picture of a good leader. He’s dressed to impress today, decked out in the regalia of a uniform that Hyosang can list the number of times he’s actually been witness to. It’s a uniform they all have, albeit for their respective kingdoms, and Hyosang knows from personal experience that since there’s no new addition to the court today, Sehyuk will be attending a Gyo council meeting later. Despite how his role as the court’s leader eats a majority of Sehyuk’s time, he’s still expected to attend a number of the council meetings that the Gyo elders have. It’s unfortunate that Sehyuk will have to go from one meeting straight to another -- only Sehyuk, because Sangdo is dressed as he always is for these meetings -- but there are worse things that could be happening instead.

And really, Hyosang should consider this a blessing in disguise. There’s something entirely too good to miss about the way the way Sehyuk fills out the uniform, his broad shoulders set and strong, and the fabric pristine and unmarred by wrinkles or dust. If Hyosang were closer, he’s sure that the metal pieces would have a distinct shine to them. As it is, they merely wink at him from across the circular table, glinting in the artificial light that the wizards conjure for their meetings. 

Movement has them jostling a little, and Hyosang’s eyes lift. Hyunho is still speaking, conversing with Xero and Hansol, the wizards having brought up a pleasant anomaly of their own. Really, Hyosang should be concerned now, because an influx of births is one thing and almost an entire generation of young wizards testing higher than the average on potential is another, but Hyosang’s eyes lift to meet Sehyuk’s and the without warning, the world drops away from him.

When Hyosang surfaces again, his chest is tight with something he has no name for, an emotion too intense for words. Sehyuk is still watching him, and when Hyosang meets his eyes, Sehyuk’s lips thin out and twitch into one of his more unnoticeable smiles. That unnamed emotion returns with force then, setting off a reaction in Hyosang’s stomach that is oddly similar to a flock of birds taking flight. 

The murmur of Hyosang’s name has the knight turning, and he fixes Sanggyun with a questioning arch of his brow. For once, he’s grateful to have his attention stolen away from the court’s leader, grateful that Sanggyun had deemed fit to seek his opinion on the matter.

“What do you think?” There’s something in Sanggyun’s eyes, too, something curious and questioning, something Hyosang isn’t sure he can face right now. “I know you’re thinking about something. You have that look on your face.” When Hyosang’s lips pull into a guilty smile, Sanggyun takes that as his cue to soldier on. “Between Apollo’s leap in births and Gwydion’s above average potential tests--”

“And a new sickness plaguing the children of Gyo.”

Sehyuk’s interjection has Hyosang snapping to face him, and he knows without looking that he’s not the only one. Suddenly, the uniform makes sense, and the anxiety that had been building in Hyosang’s gut rises to lodge in his throat.

For a long moment, no one speak, taking in the information. Although Gyo residents don’t all breed true to have ease shifting forms, they all carry the blood and heritage that make them dragons. A sickness that affects the children is not a matter to toy with, and it’s a sign of things to come that Hyosang really doesn’t want to consider.

Hyosang’s head bows, and he thinks back to the things he’s seen and heard on his recent circuits of the kingdom of Caissa. He doesn’t like the answer he comes up with. He can’t guarantee that any of what he’s considering is a sign, but it could just be a matter of time.

“I think something is coming.”

Any chatter that had sprung up following Sehyuk’s addition to the conversation is silenced by his words. By the time Hyosang lifts his head to meet the eyes of those around him, he can see that many of them have reached a similar conclusion. Something is coming, something that will affect all four kingdoms, and it’s just a matter of time before it hits them.

But with no way to tell what or even when it might come, there’s nothing they can do to prepare. All they can do is move on and be vigilant, and even though Hyosang hates to admit it, perhaps this is the distraction he needs.

After a moment, Hyunho concludes the news from Apollo, voice softer now than it had been before. Xero picks up after that, describing the magic and gift-potential tests and their findings in a little more detail. Hyosang watches him resolutely, noting the important things while making his own mental tally of what to look out for next time he takes a circuit.

For the remainder of the meeting, Hyosang keeps him attention on Xero and on the looming threat that none of them can name for face. It’s with resolute determination that Hyosang keeps his thoughts from Sehyuk in his uniform on the other side of the table, that same resolute determination that prevents Hyosang from lingering on the thought of Sehyuk’s smile.

As the Sagittarian knight, a knight of the kingdom of Caissa, Hyosang knows better than to dream when there’s work to be done. As a human, more mortal than any of the other kingdoms and their citizens, Hyosang knows better than to allow himself to believe in the impossible. No matter how incredible it may be to believe that he and Sehyuk might one day have something, it’s an impossibility, and Hyosang knows it.

The love of a knight -- a human -- and a dragon, the love of two members of a court whose duty is meant to come first and foremost, is sad at best and agony at worst, and they both know it. Whatever they might have is futile, doomed to bitter failure.

Hyosang knows it, so why can’t he convince himself to let it go and move on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long's it been? Five months? ....yeah, okay, my bad. There wasn't supposed to be a five month gap between Dim and Futile, but between major holidays to handle at work on top of a bunch of fun things at home and in my personal life, I wasn't left with a lot of time to sit down and give this universe and these characters the attention to detail that they deserved. I'm not completely happy with this chapter and its progression -- I feel like introducing the plot point like I did took away from the introspective -- but both needed to be done, and I'm not sure I could have worked it better. It became a case of either _post it now and get over it_ or _put it off forever and eventually drop this fic_ , and I'd like to think I've come too far with the outline and the development to just drop it.
> 
> I'm hoping to tackle the update for Burner here in the next couple days, and start cross-posting old things I had on my AFF account, but we'll see how well that goes.
> 
> Also, happy birthday, Kayla.


	4. Erratic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> er·rat·ic. əˈradik/. (adj) not even or regular in pattern or movement; unpredictable.

It’s not even midmorning when the normally peaceful air of Lisle’s public square is shattered by an explosion. The blast shakes the surrounding buildings where they stand and rattles windows in their frames, and within seconds the inhabitants are spilling out onto the streets like a beehive that’s been jostled with a stick. And even as the square fills with bodies and voices raised in protest, the air begins to fill with luminescent bubbles that shift with brilliant colors. Then, one by one, as if timed, the bubbles begin to pop, showering the crowd below in sparkling sprays.

From the safety of where he hides behind a stack of crates just off the main street, Byungjoo watches the chaos and rejoices in the confusion.

Between court meetings, meetings with the Gwydion wizard council, and the politics of being the son of his parents, it’s been a long time since Byungjoo last allowed himself time to cause trouble and let loose. And oh, how he’s missed it. Granted, the other inhabitants of Lisle probably haven’t, but Byungjoo likes to think of his pranks and shenanigans as a tribute to them, thanking the city for building him into the person he is today. And really, isn’t that the most important thing?

Cackling to himself, Byungjoo slips away when the last of the bubbles begin to pop, pulling up the familiar guise of his younger self, altering only the color of his hair and the easier appearance alterations so that he can move through the city without being stopped. He makes it five or six blocks away before deciding to begin work on another of his projects.

Byungjoo’s morning and early afternoon follows a similar pattern where he sets up a project or commotion, retreats to a safe distance, then sets everything to go off.

He turns the water in the major fountains different colors and magicks the largest into producing bubbles that float in the air for minutes at a time before they simply disappear, ranging from the size of pocket change to large enough to fit a horse and rider inside. On another street, he dyes the blooming flowers colors not found in their nature and creates others out of little more than whatever is on hand; by the time he slips away from that scene, there are flowers everywhere, littering every available surface and found beneath every step. Elsewhere finds Byungjoo creating a fog bank that rolls across the street with creatures that appear and frolic among those walking and selling their wares. The adults are divided between amused and frustrated, but the children love it, and Byungjoo slips away with the knowledge that he’s made the day of at least a few.

It’s on his fourth major project that Byungjoo encounters a problem.

“You there! What are you doing?”

Byungjoo glances up, caught with his hands in the air and magic glowing at his fingertips. He hasn’t yet brought the flowers and trees to temporary life, but it’s enough to be caught amidst a rash of magical occurrences. If the guard is smart – and they usually are – he won’t need to question Byungjoo to put two and two together.

The guard advances, and Byungjoo’s hands fall as he wills the magic to disperse, offering up the brightest, most innocent smiles he can muster when he realizes that the uniformed male before him knows his family and likely knows of him as well. “Greetings!” Byungjoo tries to put on his best innocent act, but it’s somewhat destroyed by the fact that he’s in his most common and average set of plainclothes. He hadn’t wanted to be noticed during his mission, and now... Now he’s been noticed and he can’t even pull rank to get out of trouble.

After all, the people that know him as Byungjoo might not believe him, but the people that only know of him as The Capricorn Wizard would be willing to believe just about anything. After all, save for the last Ophiuchus sign, the signs have always been loyal and true, not a single betrayer or bad egg in the lot.

But then again, Byungjoo isn’t a bad egg. He just likes to have fun.

The guard eyes Byungjoo warily, then extends a hand. His palm is glowing, and Byungjoo swears because he doesn’t want to believe that he looks so young and untrustworthy that a guard would feel obligated to use a truth spell when questioning him. But apparently it’s happening, and Byungjoo really needs to stop making assumptions. All they do is get him in trouble.

“Look,” he says, discreetly scooting a step back. “I know I don’t look like it, but I promise I’m not causing any trouble. I was just...” It takes Byungjoo a moment to think of a feasible excuse, and even then, he knows how weak it sounds. “I was looking for my sister.” Because it’s one of the first spells a Gwydion youngster would learn, and Byungjoo is reminded the guard’s dubious expression that he looks half a decade younger than he really is

The guard looks confused for a moment, but then he frowns. “If you’re looking for your sister, what are you doing here?”

It’s a good question, and one that Byungjoo doesn’t immediately have an answer for because anything he says would either get in in trouble or contradict something he’s said previously, and really.... Byungjoo really doesn’t want to get in trouble over a little bit of fun. Xero would be _so_ disappointed in him.

“Well, you see...”

Byungjoo is still fumbling for a good excuse when the street around him begins to fill with smoke, a bank of greyness that moves with a purpose. It curls around Byungjoo’s ankles, then his knees, his waist, his torso, his everything. The smoke curls around him, around the guard, and obscures the street around them until, at long last, the guard swears and pulls away. “That blasted brat is at it again. You stay here,” he says to Byungjoo, already turning away.

And Byungjoo, well. Byungjoo knows when to listen. He also knows when to run.

Byungjoo turns and bolts for freedom, scrambling through the bank of smoke until the early slams into the side of a building. The smoke extends to the very edges of the street and all the way down both in both directions. Whoever the mastermind is, they’re good, but they could use a little bit of refinement.

Byungjoo is still deciding which direction to run when a hand catches his elbow. When he glances to the side, there’s a child there, their face pale against the dark of their jacket, and Byungjoo finds himself wondering what they’re doing out in this neighborhood at this time of the day.

“Come on!” They hiss, lips twisting as their fingers curl around his wrist and tug him along. Their route takes them down an alley, one that pulls away from the street still flooded with smoke and out toward the border of the city. Byungjoo allows himself to be tugged along, stunned at the strength in their tiny hand and the sure way they handle themselves in an area that even Byungjoo, lifetime resident of Lisle, is unfamiliar in.

It’s a couple minutes later that a second body sidles up next to Byungjoo before skirting past. They’re out of breath, giggling to themself in excitement, and the blind racing through the sidestreets and alleys pauses for a moment in order for the two to stop and confer.

Then, as one, they round on Byungjoo, tugging down hoods that had been previously drawn. It’s only here, in the light and in the clear air, that Byungjoo gets a good look at his rescuers.

They could almost be siblings, with their fair complexions and matching blond hair, but it’s more likely that they’re cousins or friends. Their faces are similar, but not alike, and the longer Byungjoo studies, the more he sees. The one on the left, the one that had been pulling him along, is a girl. Her features are softer, and her hair is long and hangs in golden tresses around her face. The one on the left, the boy, has sharper everything, from his jawline to his eyes, and his hair is short and uneven, as if he’d taken a blade to it one day and sliced it off on his own. They, like he, had dressed to move freely and unobserved. However, they, unlike him, had somehow accomplished it without problem.

“Which one of you was it?” Byungjoo asks at length, glancing between the two of them. Because it must have been them. One of them must have made the bank of smoke that had flooded the street and provided cover for their escape. It’s not an easy magic, but they’d accomplished it well, and with room to spare as far as execution goes. And their age certainly adds to the wow factor of it all. “That was level three defensive magic. Which one of you was it?”

It’s the girl that answers first, defiance clear in her tone. “Both of us. We both started it. But Si held it while I went after you.”

She’s so young that Byungjoo has to marvel. She’s a child, no older than eleven or twelve. And he can’t be too much older than her. They’re so young, and yet their potential is incredible. It’s the sort of magic that the council needs, the sort of magic the court needs from the wizarding representatives. In time, and with plenty of training, they could be the next Aquarius and Cancer wizards.

“That was incredible,” Byungjoo admits with open honesty. He turns to the boy, eyeing him more openly now. “How long can you hold it once it’s up?”

The boy, Si, as he’d been called, frowns. “Why do you want to know?”

It’s only then that Byungjoo realizes his glamour is still in place. It’s easy to release, to wipe the tint from his hair and cast away the magicked youth. It’s not always as easy to explain, but it would seem he doesn’t need to, because the duo have gone still and silent, eyes wide.

“Is that--” The girl turns to Si, bewildered. “That looks like--”

“It is, Se,” he mumbles, dropping to one knee. She follows after a moment, clumsily and with a certain lack of grace that would have made Byungjoo smile under other circumstances. In this one, it just makes him sigh.

“Yes, yes, I’m Byungjoo, the Capricorn Wizard.” His father would be furious at his lack of social etiquette, but Byungjoo really can’t bring himself to care. “How long can you hold it?”

Se, the girl, elbows Si in the side, shooting him a look that Byungjoo knows all too well. This one brings a smile to his lips. “Have either of you thought about entering the academy?”

Se’s look of bewilderment falters, and Si’s expression darkens. “No, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir,” Byungjoo corrects with an easy smile. With a wave of his hand, the previous glamour returns. “Byungjoo will do just fine. After all, we’re friends, right?”

Si and Se exchange a look, but it’s Se that speaks first. “He can hold a full street for about two minutes. Smaller spaces for longer. If I’m with him, much longer for both. But we can’t go to the academy.”

Si elbows her in the side, brow furrowed in a manner that Byungjoo doesn’t like. When Si turns back to face him, Byungjoo finds he likes the expression that much less. It looks out of place on his face, like the expression of a world-weary man on a child.

“Our families are too poor. They can’t send us.”

It takes Byungjoo a moment to makes sense of the phrase. Lisle has never been a poor city. It doesn’t see the same sort of tourism as Helecia or Haven, and it’s not a major trader like Deleaire or Briary, but the city isn’t poor. It doesn’t have poor families. And even if it did, the academy may be costly at times, but there are obligations in each city to send their best and brightest wizarding pupils to the academy in Helecia. And these two are clearly more than qualified.

Se shifts in discomfort, but Si looks defiant as he continues. “We’re outkingdom. Our families were exiled because of Se and I. We were relocated here by the council, but no one likes the foreigners.”

Byungjoo doesn’t like the sound of that. But then again, as part of the court, a defender of justice, Byungjoo imagines he's not supposed to like it. Still, imagining these children being picked on for the very thing that makes Gwydion what it is...

“Well,” he says after a moment, “that just won’t do. I suppose I’ll be talking to the council here soon anyway, so I'll add this to my list of topics, hm?” At Se’s tentative smile, Byungjoo allows himself to continue. “There have an obligation to see that you two get the proper training to control yourselves. The fact that they haven't offered you a place at the academy yet means someone is slacking, and that someone is going to be in a lot of trouble when I'm done.”

At this, even Si smiles, and Byungjoo allows himself to smile back. ”Until then.... I was in the middle of causing a little bit of organized chaos when thug are caught me, and there’s a number of places I haven’t hit yet. Would the two of you like to join me and help finish everything off? I would be happy to show you both some pointers until you can be enrolled at the academy.”

Se and Si both straighten, bouncing on the balls of their feet. ”We’d love that!”

By the time the sun finally sets on Lisle, the city has been painted red with magic, beautiful and fanciful creations and works of art found on every major street, corner, and gathering place. The guards are baffled, unable to comprehend who might be doing it and how they get from one side of the city to the other in seconds at a time. They remain baffled for the next fortnight until, with the next gathering of academy admissions, the creations abruptly stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time, I know. But after finishing NaNo, I realized I needed something else to work on for a while, and I decided that an update for this was long-past due. Burner should be next, assuming I can get things to work, but... Well, we'll see.
> 
> For reference, I was using [Sichung](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/2e/42/83/2e42835106fcdd07dedf8e1d2b2d730e.jpg) (NCT) and [Sejeong](https://68.media.tumblr.com/ccda68c2aaf8acfc4e4f187909ca8873/tumblr_ogrkwhYvJc1sk2kqwo1_540.png) (Gugudan) for Si and Se, respectively. They may or may not make appearances later in the series, but they're definitely not going to be major characters. But here's a brief peek into Byungjoo's hometown, other towns in Gwydion, and how the wizard academy works. And a bonus of Byungjoo being a literal child.
> 
> As always, unbeta-ed.


End file.
